


Kill the Cat

by stillmadaboutpetra



Series: A tale of tails [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Choking, Consentacles, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Enthusiastic Consent, Fantasy Sex, Large Cock, M/M, Monsterfucking, NSFW Art, Object Insertion, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Magic, Size Kink, Tail Sex, Tentacle Sex, Unrealistic Sex, Vampires, Wet & Messy, all the way through, belly bulge, dragon!simon, monsterfuckers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29633229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillmadaboutpetra/pseuds/stillmadaboutpetra
Summary: The best thing about vampires is how hard they are to break; the best thing about this vampire is how much he loves to be broken.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: A tale of tails [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2177358
Comments: 22
Kudos: 43





	Kill the Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags. i am giving u very clear warning of the content thats gonna happen.  
> Simon and Baz use the tail again. This is fake magical monsterfucking weird sex. unrealistic!! anyway simon fucks baz all the way through if u know what i mean. it's a sequel to the simon tailfuck fic obvi. they both love it. freaky monsters.

There is nothing Simon loves more than how Baz looks after he’s been fucked. No, made love too. How pliant he is, how dreamy his face. He’s all soft wet kisses, hands in Simon’s hair, low sweet hums. Simon loves him. He loves to touch him, taste him, look at him. He loves him too much to bear.

“What, darling?” Baz purrs, curling them together in another long kiss. He’s a long held sigh let go. He’s shivery thighs and sticky mess they’ve made together. Simon wants to lick him up. He wants to never let Baz out of this bed, out of his sight. He wants Baz through and through, compulsive and unsated.

Baz belongs here, like this. Wet and open, dribbling with cum. Pleased and well-fucked.

They grunt into the next kiss, a little harder touch, a little desperate with what, Simon doesn’t know. A need, a greed well-founded.

Greedy. He’s greedy for more.

“Simon?” Baz asks into the next kiss.

“I love you.” That earns him a blush, a sappy smile. Eyelashes over cheeks. The tuck of hair behind an ear, all shy fingertips - Simon chases the gesture, kisses Baz’s palm. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“You just had me.”

“I want more.”

Baz moans, canting his hips up. They’re still soft, the both of him; their bodies stick together, only recently peeled apart. They’re coming together again. Baz is skin warm, skin-deep. Baz’s fangs drip out of his mouth, wet and white. Simon punctures his tongue on them and feeds the blood into a glugging throat.

“Oh-!” Baz squirms in sudden realization at a sudden touch. The spade of Simon’s tail licks up between his crack, slicking itself in the cum leaked out of him. “Well,” he leers, “some part of you is excited.”

“The tail wants what the tail wants,” Simon says. Warns. Threatens.

Baz squints briefly and then shivers. The leathery appendage flattens against his soft hole, stroking itself up and down, a fluttering intrusion that comes away with glopping strings of Simon’s spend.

“Yes, yes, so I’ve learned. I like my other boyfriend well enough.” He always jokes that Simon’s tail is the third man in this relationship. He’s more right than he knows.

As if listening, it curls around Baz’s thigh and gives a squeeze. Half of it is Simon, half of it is lizard instinct, unchecked and alien within Simon. It’s the dragon that slumbers in his blood. Simon loves Baz, and the dragon of him loves Baz. It’s more love than a man can handle, but Baz is a vampire, and they’re a different kind of creature. The best thing about vampires is how hard they are to break; the best thing about _this_ vampire is how much he loves to be broken.

Simon knows it. Baz knows it. They hold the truth of it between them.

Simon’s tail slithers up to Baz’s spent cock, the narrow tip probing his piss slit. Baz hisses faintly, pushing his head back into the pillow, arching and dropping his legs wider, more open, a casual obedience to the sensation.

“Fuck, I - I, Baz, I, I want,” Simon stammers, shifting carefully, gripping his tail beneath the spaded head in reprimand of his own unruly behavior “Sorry, love.”

“Don’t be,” Baz allowed, letting go of a breath, dropping back boneless into the bed. “Simon, would you, do you-”

“Yes-!”

“Want to - oh, alright then.”

They blink at each other. Simon gnaws on his bottom lip, already kiss-sore, and Baz rolls his jaw around side to side contemplatively. They look away; they look back. Simon’s previously fucked himself exquisitely with his tail, or rather, his tail fucked him. Baz had the thought that he’d like to be in his position himself, to have _so much_ of Simon inside him. To have the thick roping tail churn him up and make him cum, pull him apart like candyfloss, a pink mess.

It had been delicious to witness, and Simon’s no worse for it. Nothing a little Magick hadn't fixed when it was all said and done. He and his tail got along quite nicely. Baz…is curious.

And you know what they say about curiosity.

“Can I put it in?” Simon asks so earnestly. Baz laughs in his face and stretches, lounging himself along the bed in a pretty picture.

He waves an aristocratic hand through the air. “Do whatever you want.”

Simon’s pupils thin out dangerously. His mouth fills with teeth to match Baz’s own. Above him, his wings flex out of hiding, the enchantment fizzling away in a shimmer of sparks and rose-hues, a pop like a champagne cork. He is a thing to celebrate. The monstrous growth of him sends a dark thrill through Baz, and it mirrors in Simon as a treacle-thick possessiveness syrups through him, all tacky blood and unquenched lust.  
His tail snakes up Baz’s body from between his legs, laying itself like a patient animal over his stomach, up his chest. The size and weight of it is a silent promise. Simon reaches for Baz and brushes the back of his knuckles beneath his chin, cuffing him teasingly, nails skating across his neck.

“Can I put _all_ of it in?” Simon asks. He feels Baz swallow underneath his fingertips.

“If it fits,” Baz rasps.

Simon’s answering grin devours him with teeth. The dragon leans forward to kiss Baz on the cheek and promise him dearly that of course it’ll fit. Baz was made for this. He can take it all. Simon will make sure of it.

Baz wants it. He wants to try. Hunger rocks through him, an emptiness. His muscles clench around the vacancy of Simon’s cock having left him; what was a moment ago sedated soreness is now an ache for more. He’s a place to be filled and fucked.

The tail feels, and Simon feels, and together, they slink as one into Baz. It is a two-fold sensation, an echo-chamber of a scintillating squeeze. Baz is already soft and wet from Simon fucking him open earlier; he’s heady with kisses, kiss after kiss, his tongue sucked on, his ears licked, as Simon’s tail teases him, wetting itself in cum and leftover lube, the leathery tip thumbing at his opening, probing in and out like a rough tongue.

“Get on with it,” Baz snaps, freshly flushed with a nip of dragon blood off Simon’s wings. Potent stuff. It boils all the way down his throat, splashes into his belly. He wants to bloat on Simon.

“How wet can you get?” Simon asks, sitting back between Baz’s spread thighs, rubbing the inside of each knee soothingly.

“Me wet or you wet?”

Simon considers this. “Wet wet.”

“Wet wet,” Baz repeats with a firm nod.

They eye the lube together, and then Baz’s eyes drift to his wand. Simon’s tail flicks out to fetch it, passing it off to Baz’s hand. Baz wipes cum off of the hand with the sheet and Simon smiles impishly at the peeved look on his boyfriend’s face.

“Here,” Baz offers, holding out his hand. Obediently, Simon lays his tail into Baz’s grip. Lets the mage run the dangerous tip of his wand like a talon across his leathered skin.

 **“Soaked to the bone.”** Now there’s a spell. It’s a bit off-putting to have on your cock, not exactly the ideal sex spell. Works if you're rock hard, but it can get a little wonky if you’re not careful. But a tail like Simon’s, threaded through with knuckles, adroit and flexible - he slicks up nicely, doesn’t he. He drips. Baz has a puddle in his palm in seconds, and the greasefire of his magic licks up through Simon, makes his wings shake out with the heat.

“Wet!”

“Behold, wet wet,” Baz laughs, tossing his wand (carefully) back on the nightstand. Still within reach. You never know.

Simon slaps his sopping tail against Baz’s ass with a wet smack. Baz yelps, the noise twisting into a moan as the newly slickened appendage slip-n-slides between his cheeks, passing over his cock and balls with a polite little _hello how do you do_ before dipping down and into his hole. He has only seconds to consider the impending intrusion before it begins; Simon’s tail is immediate, a tickle that soon grows to a stretch as Simon feeds inch after inch of his tail into his hole, pushing and undulating and demanding its way inside, the untamed beast.

Within seconds, Baz is stuffed fuller than he’s ever been in his life, than he’s thought possible, and Simon is panting into his neck at the sensation of the upper reaches of Baz’s body squeezed around him. It’s different than fucking Baz with his cock, but he’s still fucking him. It’s him, and it’s more than him. He’s cool inside and warming around him, just like he always does when he takes cock, like Simon’s filling him with his lifeforce, like he’s making the blood run in Baz’s body. It’s the tooth and claw of him, a roar and howl inside spilling over into flesh and bone. They tangle together, listening to the slick glucking sounds of Simon’s tail worming itself further into Baz, patient in its plunge. Dense muscle and the bruise of bone grinds over his prostate, already battered puffy from Simon’s good work earlier. Baz twists in the sheets, a delirium slowly taking over him.

“Full,” Baz pants, breaking from Simon’s kiss. A wet tongue licks up his cheek.

“I’ve barely started.”

Baz keens as a forceful thrust sinks a fat length of tail further inside like a punch, a fist. His cock flops and thickens against him, bounced with the jerking thrust of his hips as Simon slowly fucks him into an arch. He pulls taught and then boneless as Simon retreats his tail, stretching his rim, his walls to fluttery panic, only to thrust in again, determined. The peculiar magicked wetness gushes out around the tight clench of his rim, the sheets beneath them saturated, pooling and slippery. Baz can feel it inside him; his guts, already gurgling with liquid, aphrodisiac with a radiant heat that’s all Simon and magick and dragonborn.

He is possessed fully by Simon, burning up with him like a fever in his blood.

The tail flexes within him, a clench on his insides. Simon and Baz watched in tantalized disbelief as Baz’s cock bucks with the pressure, pearling more precum.

“You love it,” Simon admires.

“K-keep going.” He’s _greedy_. He’s out of his mind. He wants to be empty of everything except Simon.

There’s so much yet to go. Yet to fit, to fill, to fuck. Baz drools for it, already shattered, already snaked with coils.

When Simon moves off the bed, he does so slowly, taking Baz with him, tugging him from the inside out, his tail wound inside him as good as a hand in a puppet. Baz chokes, hauled and obedient as he’s rearranged limb by limb, by organ, to the precarious balance of his toes, braced on the bed.

Simon rubs his cock between the cleave of Baz’s ass, taunting his leaking head against the impossibly tight stretch of his rim.

“I can’t-,” Baz whips his head side to side, both terrified and wanting Simon to dare, to try to fuck his cock in with his tail.

Simon laughs at him and kisses the back of his neck as he gathers Baz’s wrists, pulling him further onto his stiffened tail, spearing into him. He grunts with the effort. He’s fighting mud. “I won’t.”

“Tease,” Baz pants, trying to go limp, to stay unresisting, making demands his body doesn’t want to meet. It still tries to preserve him, wretched thing. He wants to transform. To be a thing that can only _take_. He looks down at himself, at his own belly to see the pulse of disordered flesh within him, a writhing creature making home in his guts. He moans and moans again and cannot stop, the sound out now, it has to come out. It’s in him, and it has to come out.

“Si-Simon.” His voice cracks and shrieks and dies again in his throat.

“Shh.” Simon palms his cheeks, spreading him apart, looking at him where he’s stretched thin, oozing. The sight makes him pant and groan, makes him want to sink his teeth into Baz and hold him down and ruin him.

“H-how much more?”

It’s growing inside him. The tail is lengthening. It’s been hours. Baz can hardly swallow. He feels lit beneath his lungs. He feels it throbbing up impossibility. Slithering. Crawling. Churning him up. He’s a vessel, a sleeve. He’s fucked through, more toy than boy.

“All of it,” Simon promises, thrusting against him, into him, rubbing his cock against Baz’s crack, against the hot bulge of his tail out of that once pretty little hole that’s nothing but a meaty wound he’s made. He should have cum more in Baz, filled him up so he can push it out of his mouth. Fucked him sick, fucked him to overflow. But - oh, he’s nearly there. He can feel it, past the gooey insides of his guts, past the brittle organs of his chest. Up, up, he fucks slowly up - Baz thrashes in his hold, shivering, going death-tight in a rigor - _up_ \- tight, he’s so _tight_ , he’s strangling Simon. Simon strangles back - he thrusts up with his tail, up and _through_.

Baz makes the filthiest gargled choke of noise Simon’s ever heard. A splash of spit and blood, _Simon’s blood,_ still dragon hot, only so recently swallowed, preempts the grotesque snakelike reveal of his tail uncoiling and probing out of Baz’s throat, his mouth, slipping past his crying lips. Blood and wet dribbles from his nostrils, bubbling with a panicked breath barely escaped.

Baz’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he suffocates, as he writhes on the thick pleasured beat of Simon’s heart made long and sinuous and carved all the way through him. Simon thrusts the entire length of his tail up into Baz, fucking him hollow, fucking him out from end to end. He holds Baz up on his toes as Baz twitches through an orgasm and goes jelly-soft, held up only by Simon, by the tail. Plucked into strings and made to perform a disturbing trick. He leaks from both ends, wet all the way through, every drop that slicks the way fucked out again. Simon wants to open him up and empty him out, fuck a hole through him, spit in one end and watch it drip out the other.

He thinks Baz is trying to say his name, but it’s hard to tell with a tail for a tongue stuck out of his mouth like that. He cuts himself on Baz’s fangs and lets blood mix with spit and foam messily free. Blood and spit. It’s a good look on Baz. So is a third orgasm. And a fourth. Simon wants to wring every drop he can out from Baz. Maybe that will make the dragon in him quiet; to have his treasure so well kept and made his.

Whatever he breaks, they can fix, and Baz loves to be broken.


End file.
